


Bridging the Divide

by unacaritafeliz



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Crying, Derek "Nursey" Nurse is Unchill, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-05-21 19:09:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14921213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unacaritafeliz/pseuds/unacaritafeliz
Summary: Nursey and Dex, they're not friends. They aren't Ransom and Holster, or Ollie and Wicky, or Shitty and Jack. They're begrudging roommates and tentative partners on the ice. They sit together on the bus because of superstition and study together at Founder's because of Chowder but they're not friends. They don't even talk to each other about emotional shit like this - not even after kegsters when they're both trashed enough to forget who they are to each other - much less climb into each other's bed and hold each other.[When Nursey can't sleep, Dex doesn't sleep either.]





	Bridging the Divide

**Author's Note:**

  * For [angeryginger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/angeryginger/gifts).



> [Jenna drew some great artwork like eight million years ago and I've been writing this fic ever since.](https://angeryginger.tumblr.com/post/165996463352/when-nursey-cant-sleep-dex-doesnt-sleep-either)

Nursey's awake.

Dex knows that Nursey's awake because he's awake too, because Derek fucking Nurse can never be quiet when he can't sleep. It's only September and yet Dex has spent at least a dozen of the nights in their room lying awake in bed, staring at his ceiling, listening to Nursey fidgeting in the bunk below him and wishing he could do something - smash his pillow into Nursey's face to stop his drunk rambling, sit on Nursey's back to stop his tossing and turning, crawl into bed with Nursey to stop him from whimpering like that.

Tonight is one of the latter nights; Dex can hear Nursey gasping for breath in a way he probably thinks is quiet. These nights are the worst, because they're the nights when Dex most wants to do something to help.

But he can't.

Nursey and Dex, they're not friends. They aren't Ransom and Holster, or Ollie and Wicky, or Shitty and Jack. They're begrudging roommates and tentative partners on the ice. They sit together on the bus because of superstition and study together at Founder's because of Chowder but they're not friends. They don't even talk to each other about emotional shit like this - not even after kegsters when they're both trashed enough to forget who they are to each other - much less climb into each other's bed and hold each other.

There's another whimper in the bunk under him and Dex wonders if he should text Bitty or Chowder for help. They'd both be so much better at this than he is, they'd know exactly what to do, but Nursey might actually murder him if he told someone about Nursey's current lack of chill. Dex still feels like it'd be worth it, surely helping Nursey find someone to help him is the right thing to do? He reaches for his phone, but then Nursey sobs again and something in Dex just breaks.

"Nurse?" he calls out. His words hang in the darkness of their room, sleep-rough and uncertain.

Nursey goes quiet. Dex figures that Nursey's giving him an excuse to turn around and go back to sleep. Maybe he should, it's clearly what Nursey expects him to do, it's what he's done every damm night before this one, but he can't bring himself to do it tonight. He cares about Nursey, no matter how reluctantly. He needs to help him.

He wants to try.

"Nursey?" he tries again, turning onto his side.

"Sorry man, I didn't know you were up," Nursey says. His voice is rougher and thicker than usual, yet it still somehow drips with fake-chill.

"Are you okay?" Dex asks. He shuts his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingertips. That's the wrong question, Nursey's clearly not okay.. "I mean, what's wrong, man?"

"Nothing's wrong, Poindexter" Nursey says. "I'm fine, it's chill, just... go back to sleep, bro. I'm really sorry if I was keeping you up but honestly there's-"

"Derek," Dex interrupts, bluntly. Nursey stops talking instantly and Dex distantly wonders if that's always been the key to getting Derek Nurse to shut the fuck up. "I'm coming down."

"Wait, Dex, don't-" Nursey starts, but Dex ignores him as he swings himself down from the top bunk. He considers Nursey for a moment, before deciding the top of the bed is too intimate. He sits down at the foot of the bed, with his back against the frame and his long legs stretched out over the covers.

He stares at Nursey. Nursey stares back.

"I'm fine," says Nursey.

"You're not," says Dex.

"It doesn't matter," says Nursey.

"It does," says Dex.

"Not to you," says Nursey.

Dex frowns. He deserves that. He's knows that he's never really acted like Nursey mattered before; although he's been trying to be better about that since Chowder sat him down after the dibs flip and yelled at him for an hour straight. Still, he's been listening to Nursey cry for weeks without doing anything about it. He can't blame Nursey for thinking he didn't matter to Dex.

He does matter, though. If Dex is being honest with himself, Nursey matters a whole lot more than Dex is comfortable admitting to.

"It matters to me, okay?" he says, softly. His gaze drops to his lap, his eyes watching his fingers play with the fraying edge of Nursey's blanket. "You matter to me."

A beat passes, and then another. Dex still can't bring himself to look up at Nursey - though he's not sure if he's more scared of what he'll see on Nursey's face, or what he'll show on his.

"You've got a fucking weird way of showing it, Poindexter," Nursey says, finally.

He doesn't sound angry. He sounds calm, resigned, almost infuriatingly so. If they were still freshmen, Dex would've snapped at him for it, made this into a fight, done anything just to prove that Nursey wasn't as calm as he seemed.

But they’re not freshmen anymore.

"I know," says Dex, calmly, finally looking back at Nursey. There's a crease on his forehead that Dex itches to smooth away. "And I'm sorry."

Nursey frowns at him for a few more moments before he gives up, sighing as he shifts his gaze to the corner of the room.

"Is that what this is about?" Dex asks. He's almost afraid of the answer. "Did I make you feel like this?"

"No," says Nursey. He swings his face to look at Dex again. "Well, not entirely. But it doesn't help."

Dex nods, overcome with shame and regret. "I really am sorry," he says. "I know that I, uh, haven't always been good to you."

"You've never been good to me," Nursey interrupts.

"That's fair," Dex says, because it is. Dex isn't good for Nursey. He doesn't even know how to be. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No, I mean, I don't know," Nursey sighs. "It's just that... I kinda thought we were friends? I thought the arguments were like some game we would play, something - I don't know... fun? But then we were fighting over this room and... it wasn't fun anymore."

"Chowder was so angry with me," Dex says. "Foxtrot still won't talk to me about anything except hockey. And, like, I was so angry with them for taking your side, at first. But they were right. I was acting entitled and…” he pauses to search for the right word. He doesn't like the one he finds. “Cruel. And you deserved better."

"Nah," says Nursey. "You did all that work for dibs. You deserved this room."

"So did you," says Dex, firmly. "And instead of acknowledging that I threw our friendship under the bus, and acted like the world was ending and like you weren't good enough and it was bullshit, Derek. And I'm sorry."

“It’s okay,” says Nursey. “You don’t have to do this, Poindexter."

"It’s not okay and I do have to say this," Dex says, calmly. "I should've said it months ago. I'm sorry I didn’t."

Nursey stares at Dex for a moment before nodding. "Thanks," Nursey says, like it's that easy. Maybe it is. Maybe it could be. "Thanks for all of that - it really means a lot to me, man. I'm feeling better already, why don't you head on back to bed?"

It's the second time Nursey's given him an out and Dex can see that Nursey really wants him to take it. Dex really should leave him alone now and yet he can't bring himself to move. Now that they've actually started talking, Dex really wants to see this through.

"You said it wasn't just about me though," says Dex. "So what's else is upsetting you?"

"It's nothing, really," says Nursey. "Nothing major, at least."

It's obvious that that's a lie - if it wasn't something major, then Nursey wouldn't have been up crying about it. Rather than calling Nursey out on this though, Dex takes the softer option.

"Tell me?" he asks.

"It's just, like, little things, you know?" Nursey says. "Like, Ransom."

"Ransom?" Dex asks, surprised. He'd known that Nursey had always been close with Ransom, but he didn't think he'd been stay-up-all-night-crying-about-Ransom close with Ransom.

"Yeah," says Nursey. "I miss him a lot, you know? I mean, I miss Lardo and Holster too, and Shitty and Jack too of course, but like... Ransom's family... I mean, this entire team is family but Ransom - fuck, I'm not explaining this well."

Nursey reaches up and yanks on his hair, pulling the curls out.

"I just mean, Ransom was like a brother to me," Nursey says. "He understood, without me ever having to try and explain it to him. He knew what it was like being black and being bi and having insecurities that never shut the fuck up."

"What kind of insecurities do you even have?" Dex says, a little tactlessly.

"Surprise," Nursey deadpans, one eyebrow raised. "I'm a multifaceted human being."

Dex feels his face heat up. "No, I didn't mean it like that," says Dex. "I just meant, you seem so," he gestures at Nursey, flapping his hand around, "I don't know... Chill!"

Nursey chuckles, the entire sound without mirth. He pulls distractedly at the frayed edge of his blanket.

"I would've thought that you of all people knew that the chill is #fake," Nursey says. "100% manufactured."

"Well, you don't need to be fake here," says Dex, resting his hand on the comforter, right over where Nursey's shin lies beneath. "This is your room, and I am your partner. I've got your back this time, Nursey. I'm here for you."

Nursey clearly hesitates. "You'll think it's dumb."

Dex raises an eyebrow at his defense partner. "Try me," he says.

Nursey shakes his head. "It's just a bunch of things," Nursey says. "Intrusive thoughts, or whatever."

"What do they say?"

"That I'm not good enough to be a writer," says Nursey, fiddling with the corner of his quilt again. "That I'm going to spend so long trying to reach an unachievable dream that everything else falls out of my reach too. That I'm no good at hockey, and I'm letting you down on the first line. That..."

Nursey trails off and, despite there being a lot to unpack there, there's a lot of things that Dex already wants to say. He squeezes his hands together and forces himself to stay quiet, to let Nursey finish.

"I'm scared that no one's is ever going to fall in love with me," Nursey says quietly. "Not the way I want them to. I'm scared that I'm too loud and too obnoxious and a burden on everyone around me and that one of these days everyone's just going to get fed up and push me away."

Dex opens his mouth and closes it, unsure of what to say. He's never seen this side of Nursey, never knew that behind Nursey's smug smirk and green eyes and layers of fake chill he was just a person, terrified of not being good enough.

He feels kind of guilty too, thinking of all the times he's chirped Nursey, yelled at Nursey, belittled Nursey, without knowing that it was contributing to this.

"I...," he starts.

"You don't have to say anything," says Nursey, quickly. "It helped just to get it off my chest."

Dex nods. "Okay," he says. "But I want to say some things. Firstly, you're not bad for at hockey. You're a great player, and I'm a better player when I'm with you."

Nursey's staring at him in shock. Dex can feel his face heat up. His skin must be burning red.

"And I know my opinion on your writing is irrelevant, but I came to your open mic with Chowder, and I could see how impressed people are," Dex continues. "I know your teachers and your classmates are inspired by you, and I know that you're going to be successful. You work too damn hard not to be."

"Thanks, Dex," says Nursey softly. He looks genuinely touched.

"And for other things," says Dex, his face somehow getting even hotter. "No one is going to abandon you because they think you're too much. You're not too much. You're a great person and I know that so many people would tell you the same thing. Don't sell yourself short."

Dex is fully aware he's skipped the bit about Nursey feeling like no one will fall in love with him. It's not that it isn't true it's just... people falling in love with Nursey is not really a thought he wants to linger on tonight.

"And listen, I know your problems can seem insignificant, but they aren't, okay?" Dex continues. "You don't have to pretend to be okay when you're not. You don't have to always be chill."

"I guess, it's always been easier that way," Nursey says, with a shrug. "Most of the kids at Andover were cruel. The teachers weren't much better. Sometimes I think the only people who cared about me were Shitty and Pips, and Shitty's so busy at Harvard now and Pips..." Nursey takes a shuddering breath. "Well, Pips has moved on."

Dex doesn't know who Pips is, but he doesn't miss the longing in Nursey's voice. He wonders if Pips truly knows what he's left behind.

"I'm sure Shitty isn't too busy for you, Nurse," says Dex. "And I'm sure the other kids at Andover liked you a lot more than you think they do."

"Nah, they were total Chads," says Nursey, dismissively. "I used to think you were like them." Dex opens his mouth but Nursey cuts him off. "I don't mean rich - like, they were rich, but they couldn't exactly be mean to me about it considering I had four pretty well paid parents? I thought you were like them because everything else - white, probably straight, definitely never had to deal with a black, Muslim, queer kid before... And I know that's not fair-"

"Nah, it's a little fair," Dex interrupts. "I was a little shit in freshman year."

"I mean, true," says Nursey. "But not like that. You didn't hate me because I was black or queer, you just hated me because I was me."

"I didn't hate you," says Dex. "I thought you were annoying as hell - which you are by the way, Nurse - but I never hated you."

Nursey huffs, a small smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. "That's good to know," he says. "I think I did actually hate you for like a month or something. But after that I just... I wanted to spend time with you, even if it usually meant yelling at each other. I could see so much potential in you, Dex. I wanted to see what we could've been for each other."

Dex's breath catches in his throat. He can't help it, Nursey laying his entire self out for Dex; honest, poetic, and beautiful.

"I'm sorry I didn't want that then," Dex says, honestly. "But I want it now. If I'm not too late."

Nursey's smile widens, just a fraction. "You're not too late," he says.

"Chill," says Dex. Nursey grins. Dex can't help but grin back.

And, because it's late and Nursey's spent most of the night baring himself to Dex, Dex can't help but offer Nursey a piece of him in return "And, just for the record, that probably straight is more probably not-straight these days. Just, if you wanted to know."

Nursey doesn't really do well to hide his surprise, his green eyes go wide in shock and his jaw actually, physically drops. But there's something else written on his face, something that Dex can't quite decipher.

It makes him feel weirdly at peace.

"That's chill," says Nursey. "No, I mean that's cool - Or, like, not 'cool' because being not-straight isn't cooler than being straight, it's just a thing! Or, like, it's not even a thing, it's just, I mean..." Nursey stops speaking and breathes deeply. "Thank you for trusting me with this moment."

Dex suppresses a laugh. "When you're in doubt, you always go with what Shitty would do, huh?" he asks.

"Brah's been my brah for over six years, brah," Nursey says, in an uncanny imitation of Shitty's voice. "But seriously, Dex, I'm glad you trust me with this."

"Yeah, well, you've trusted me with, you know, all of this," says Dex, vaguely gesturing with hand.

"Yeah, thanks for listening to me," says Nursey. "It really did help. And I'm feeling a lot better about everything. Maybe we should go to bed so Bitty doesn't completely kick our asses at practice tomorrow."

Dex hesitates. He's tired and he wants to sleep but... he and Nursey are kind of having a moment and if he leaves this bed then he might lose the moment forever. And it's weird, but he's not ready to lose this new version of Nursey that he's been allowed to see tonight.

"I..." Dex starts. He hesitates, takes a deep breath. "Maybe I could stay down here with you tonight?"

Nursey tenses. "Bro, you don't have to."

"I want to," Dex replies, firmly. "Please, Nursey, Let me stay?"

Nursey stares at him for a long moment, before nodding. "Yeah, okay, man," he says. "I'd really like that."

Dex freezes for a moment, unable to actually believe that Nursey's actually going to let him stay. He shakes his head and quickly scurries up the bed to squeeze between Nursey and the wall, slipping under the covers. The bed is so tiny that he's pressed right up against Nursey, and he spares a moment to wonder how Ransom and Holster managed to fit. He swings his arm over Nursey's waist.

"This okay?" he asks, softly.

"Yeah," says Nursey, his voice barely above a whisper. "Thanks, Poindexter."

Dex lays his head against the pillow and listens to Nursey's breathing. He inhales and exhales slowly, following a calm and steady rhythm - more at peace than Dex has heard him be since they've moved into their room.

"Hey Nurse?" Dex asks, quietly.

"Yeah?" says Nursey.

"You know Boston's not so far away," Dex says. "We can go up this weekend, visit Rans and Shitty? We can go see Farrah too, she's still at Harvard, isn't she?"

Nursey shakes his head. "Farrah's busy," he says. "And I don't want to annoy Rans or Shitty."

And, no, that's wasn't right. Dex has met Farrah before and he's watched Nursey interact with Ransom and Shitty interact for two years. There's no way that any of them would object to seeing Derek Nurse.

"If you think Farrah's too busy for her baby brother, then you don't know your sister at all, dude," says Dex. "And you wouldn't be annoying Rans or Shitty. They'd love to see you. They adore you. Our entire team adores you."

"You don't," Nursey says, quietly.

And Dex isn't sure if it's the darkness of the room, or the quietness of the hour, or the heat of Nursey in his arms, or the fact that they've spent the last hour baring their souls to each other, but for the first time in his life, Dex thinks he could.

"Yeah, well, I'm here, aren't I?" Dex says instead. "That has to count for something."

"It counts for a lot, Poindexter," says Nursey, softly. "Thank you."

"Of course, man," says Dex, tightening his arm around Nursey’s back. "What are friends for?"

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to:  
> * Jenna, for inspiring me with their amazing artwork  
> * Nan, for proof reading this even though I disrespected her afterwards (I rewrote some of this after she read it, so if there are mistakes those are mine and don't reflect on Nan's proofreading skills)  
> * Nursey for letting me project my own feelings and sadness onto him.


End file.
